Witcher in Forks, Washington
by Blacknblueblanket16
Summary: Reborn in a new world as a man who kills mosters, Brandon faces the difficult choice of deciding what makes somethin a Monster.


**AN I'm making this story based on _Twilight_ by Stephenie Meyer and _The Witcher_ by Andrzej Sapkowski as well as the games made by Cd Prodject red and Netflix series. Also containing a few other series including, but not limited to, _Supernatural, Demon Slayer, Dresden Files, _and _The Once and Future King._**

**I had to rewatch the _Twilight_ movies because I'm staying with my Mom and older sister and I got to wondering "If the vampires and werewolves are such big badasses, why do they hide?"**

**Also on the fact that there is always a bigger fish.**

**A.N.2 2/11/2020: Sorry, posted my idea chapter rather than the actual story.**

**...**

It took four days and three nights of driving, but I finally had my monsters.

I'd been circling the 101; driving with the windows down and followed their scent as they ran north of Aberdeen and Hoquiam.

_Three Vampires and fresh blood mean another three bodies._

Considering most traveled alone or in pairs it was concerning.

_Fuck it._

I decided. _I should tell someone._

Halfway in Grey Harbor County I gave a call to my old mentor.

Folk as long lived as us tended to go years without contact with each other.

Nowadays without Ciri to keep me company I found myself calling once every few days.

The phone connected and Geralt picked up on the first ring, gruff and gravely voice coming out a near whisper. "What are you calling for Brandon?"

It was nice to hear someone say my real name after so long, even snappish as it was. Even for Geralt that was uncharacteristically unsocial. "Wanted to give a heads up; I found them." I told him.

I could hear a feminine voice on the other side of the line, doubtlessly Yennifer, as the old man got out of bed. He left the bedroom and didn't talk again until the door behind him closed. "Do you have everything you need?" He asked. "You could drop by and use some of the ingredients we got in storage; give yourself an edge."

"Potions brewed, ammo loaded." I told him. "Colorado is days away, even by a straight run."

I heard a sigh over the line. He didn't want me to go, alone or at all. Geralt didn't like vampires because so many of our group had died to them. They tended to be tougher, faster, and stronger than the average Witcher monster hunter.

The Witcher's, or Hexer's, had existed in one form or another throughout history of this world. All of those legendary hero's like Hercules and King Arther who killed monsters were either us or stories based off of us.

If a ghost took to killing the neighborhood kids it would be us that played Ghostbusters. Same and similar for trolls, witch's, goblins, and any other monsters that crossed our Path.

I swerved through traffic, ignoring the cussing of _'get off your fucking phone!'_. I waited for the gruff voice of the man I trusted above all else to tell me to '_come home and stop being a idiot._'

The repremand I was expecting didn't come. Instead Geralt gave me a reminder. "These things are the reason our Order is almost destroyed."

"Because they killed off the Werewolves, not because they killed the Witcher's." I reminded. _Robbing us of material for the Trial of the Grasses._

"In the older days we would let them go; too fast to catch and too dangorus to fight." He responded.

I reached in to the pocket of my driver side door, thumbing my SW .500 revolver. "Times have changed."

I heard Geralt sigh and open his bedroom again. "Good luck kid." He hung up.

_Near fifty and I'm still a kid to him. _"I'll be alright." I told him again. "Tell Yen and Ciri I said hi."

I hung up before he could talk me out of it. Geralt might have been all but my father for the longest time, but he wouldn't understand this situation.

"It'll be okay." I tried to convince myself. "I'll make it,"

...

Located in the Olympic Peninsula, in Washington state, was Forks. Driving in I could tell it was going to be small. A hand full of grocers, a bank, a sporting goods, and a Starbucks; City hall sat across a dinner and the parking lots could fit all of probably twenty cars before having to sit on the side of the road. It's pluses were Public hunting and fishing. The biggest crimes in the area tended to be poaching on someones land and teens getting caught with drugs.

It also rained more days than not and it reminded me of my trips to Poland.

I liked it; it was small places like this that let someone with a sensitive nose breath.

I tried to stay out of the eyes of the towns folk, ironically by smiling and waving as I drove. I'd swapped my license plates the day before and while towns like this were famous for "everybody knowing everybody" my face tended to be forgettable under a ball cap, a three-day beard, and transparent reading glasses.

I set out to the sporting good store for the gear I would need fo the hunt. The only deviation from my long trek to the woods was a stop at the grocery store deli for a sloppy joe and a basket of fries.

If Ciri were with me she'd flay my ass for not going with a salad. Then she'd probably order a sandwich for herself and moan about gaining weight.

Even Witcher's of the fairer sex like to eat greasy food made by someone else.

In the outdoor section of the sporting goods I bought two spray cans of bug spray, a new camping kit, two propane tanks, ten sacks of fire wood, and every bottle of deer urine they had on the shelve.

I got rung up on the counter by a kid who didn't look old enough to vote or drive. Blond hair, baby faced with a clean shave and wearing the store logo on an apron.

_Did I ever look that young, even in my old life? _I questioned myself.

Ever since my Mutation I'd started to go white at the roots of my hair and had gained muscle definition more fit for an Olympian Athlete. I hid under a hoodie two sizes too big and jeans I needed to wear a belt with. My cowboy boots ran between size 13 and 14.

In all the year that I'd lived, could not recall being that small.

"...-ro, you okay?" The kid, _Mike _if his name tag was right, asked me.

"Yeah 'm sorry man, just spacing out." I told him.

"Lot of stuff. You hunting?" He asked. He seemed like he was trying to make his day slightly less boring with conversation.

"Yeah." I confirmed. "Heard ther were a couple of real monsters in those woods."

Mike shot me a grin. "So I've heard. I've had a bunch of tourists pass by looking for mountain lions and bears."

I payed the kid, filled my cart and left the store feeling weird. The rain that met me outside wasn't helping me shake my mind of the old thoughts.

It had been a long time since I had thought of my life before hand. The only people that knew the truth about me, of my rebirth, were the people who took me into their home; Geralt, Ciri, Yennifer, and Eskel. The last of the Witcher's in North America.

_Eskel was searching for a Strigga in the Rockies a few days ago. I wonder if Ciri made it back from Mexico for Christmas._

I hadn't talked to the Sorceress in months; her parting words still bouncing off in my mind.

_"You are a worthless slug; how dare you break her heart!"_

I shook my head banishing the thoughts. Ciri and I had been close since Geralt had taken me in as a child and for the longest time I'd seen her as a older sister. She had me by at least a century had been my first friend in this world. When I had told her about how I was reborn in this world she went still and pensive for a moment before shrugging and saying we were late for dinner.

_I should have just gone out with her when she asked me out._

I questioned myself for the hundredth time. It had been a shock when Ciri cornerd me one day inside the mansion and asked me out. Or maybe not so suddenly; we had been traveling rider her for thirty years.

She nodded her head and went to bed. When I woke up it was to an angry Sorceress chewing my ass for breaking her daughters heart.

_And now she won't pick up the phone when I call; what the fuck do I do!_

_***"SCRRrrreeee!!'"***_

A man break-checked me and I nearly clipped him on my way to the feeder road with my truck. The 2000 Dodge Ram

"Finish the hunt and go find her." I said to myself. "Piece of cake."

I should have known it wouldn't happen that easy, not with a Witcher in the workings.

Most of our kind called it 'The Witcher's luck' and liked to think that because we were made to deal with predator-minded supernatural beings, our presence acted like an unspoken challenge to Destiny. 

And Destiny was a bitch and a half to mess with.

...

Towing a trailer in the rain was tough but finding a way off road wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. A small path cut in the woods on the outskirts of the town and it was just wide enough to fit my trailer.

In the older days Witchers used to travel by horseback, carriage, or train.Nowadays most travel by car and take to camping out in motel rooms and hunting lodges.

I, however, find it awkward having to explain my reasoning in tying the bed sheets into a makeshift net for gnomes and paying to replace the furniture covered in ghoul blood is only fun the first time.

The Airstream was a replacement of the _Mystery Machine_, as Ciri named it, the old Volkswagen bus I'd driven since the seventies. Unlike the one in _Scooby-doo_, It had come painted blue and served as a refuge for many a Witcher against the forces of evil.

Last December it ended up meeting it's end under the fist of a Ice Giant last winter. Ciri avenged our old home via rocket launcher and I had the wreckage towed to Witcher Mansion; Geralt and Yen's enormous house up in the mountains of Colorado.

I'd been meaning to put it back together but it still hurt to see it crushed like it was and Yen bought us the Airstream as a gift.

Opening the camper revealed an assortment of items that would have a random passerby think I was a) a terrorist b) an arms dealer, or c) criminal mastermind.

Next to the fridge where once there was a wall of cabinets now sat three gun safes filled with weapons dating from as far back as the 17 century and a wardrobe/bookshelf carrying a Library-on-wheels worth of books and scrolls.

Texts on all manner of nasty creature that hunts in the night sat between old comics, A first edition _Lord of the Rings_, and the _Playboy_ Eskel had given me in the 90's.

I had started typing and storing the information digitally back when floppy disks were a thing but sometimes I went back to check on details that I'd missed.

A WW2 M1 Bazooka and it's more modern cousin, the Mk 153 SMAW, hung over a locked rack holding the two long swords I'd most often used. The Anti-tank weapons were gifts Geralt had given me to take down the Giant. Now they hung over other mementos and pictures and of my adventures in this life. Most of them were just digital copies of the originals I'd made from Yen's alblums and portraits mixed in with some Polaroids from Ciri's old camera (my favorites being the entrance photo to Space Mountain of us surrounded by college kids and the log ride in Disney land Ciri threw up on.)

On top of the counter next to the ice chest I used to hold potions was an old hand written copy of '_Vagrent villains and Vampires'_.

I rolled my neck and cracked open the book.

"'The greatest weapons in the universe; books!'" I quoted. "Let's arm ourselves."

...

**A.N. First chapter done, second on its way.**

**Brndon is gonna fall straight from the pan and into the fire.**

**Difficult relationships tend to be a theme in both the Twilight universe and the Witcher world.**


End file.
